A little Dream of Me
by Sydde
Summary: Will wants what he wants, and after all, it is his dream.  Plot bunny curtesy of a cute little rom-com called "Zerophilia"


A Little Dream of Me

By Snafutti

Disclaimer: Not mine, don't sue.

OoOoO

Deeply asleep, Will sprawled, shirt rucked up, blankets kicked off and pushed to the corner of the bed. He was dreaming of the library again, and of Henry.

OoOoO

Will sat on a love-seats near the center of the library, his favorite table pulled close, his laptop balanced precariously on a pile of folders and ingored. He sipped coffee, reading through a patient file and adding notes. The room was warm, filled with early afternoon sunlight, and dust motes twinkled in the sunbeam streaming through the windows high up on the wall behind him. He closed the file, set it aside, and looked around. The calm was perfect.

Leaning back against the couch, he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of sunshine on his face. "Man, I could use more days like this," he thought to himself.

He closed his eyes, "Henry." he said, and heard the metallic click as someone pressed down on the latch, and swung one of the huge double doors open. Will leaned back against the small couch, and balanced the cooling mug on his stomach. He could picture Henry' slouching stride in the shuffle and squeak of his sneakers on the polished wooden floor.

The footsteps stopped in front of Will, and Henry asked, sounding uncertain, "Hey Will? You awake? We need to talk."

Eyes still closed, Will smiled, realized that he was dreaming, forcing himself to stick to the script, fighting the urge to fast forward to the good part of this recuring lucid dream, "Sure, have a seat," he patted the one remaining space, and opened his eyes, caught up in thoughts of Henry sitting close, of sly awkward looks, hesitant confessions, of a tentative first kiss.

"Um, no..." Henry said, "Look I've been thinking about this for a while now, and there isn't any easy way to say it, and I really value our friendship, so..."

Will smiled, "Henry, slow down and breath. We're friends. You can tell me anything. Sit down—we'll talk."

Henry paled slightly, and if anything, his speech grew faster and more disjointed, "I've been trying to tell you for a while and I just don't think..."

Will was standing in front of Henry, hands on his shoulders. They were across the room now in front of a roaring fire. It was night. Henry was tense, his forhead creased with anxiety, his shoulders rock hard, his hands clenched.

Will struggled with the urge to comfort the shorter man, hold him in his arms and hug him tight until the tension melted away from him. Will pulled Henry close, "Baby, it's ok," he whispered and and tilted Henry's chin up, their eyes met, and he felt himself lost and falling into those pools of midnight blue, as he leaned in for a kiss. Those blue, blue eyes suddenly shifted to glowing amber, and Will felt himself shoved hard, sent sprawling half the length of the room.

"You just aren't listening!" Henry snarled, half transformed, stalked forward, "Come on, Will. Time to open your ears, or I'll open them for you."

'Wrong dream," Will thought feverishly, "Wrong dream, wrong dream, wrong dream." He opened his eyes, and it was day time. He was in the library, on the love-seat again, and there was Henry. Sweet, geeky Henry in his 'Han shot first' t-shirt and army surplus pants. And he was still talking.

"..I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm flattered and all but it's just not what I'm in to." he finished, staring at the floor and scratching the back of his neck nervously.

Will blinked, "Wait. What now?"

"Dude!" Henry sighed in frustration, "give the eyes a rest for a second and _listen_ to me." he raised his voice and continued, "I am telling you there is NO metro in my god-damn sexual. 'kay?"

"Ok, Fuck the script," Will thought. "My dream."

Will was on the love-seat again.

Henry was standing there in the sunlight, grinning, "So I wanted you to be the first to know. Erika and I are getting married..." he shuffled back a bit, startled when Will stood up quickly, spilling piping hot coffee on himself.

"Ow, dammit!" Will shouted, and began wiping himself off quickly with the pub towel Henry handed him. He examined the towel, traced the commercially embroidered logo with and index finger. _"The Wolf's Hed,"_ he thought, feeling suddenly lost and empty.

He looked around. He was still in the library, but it was night. So far, no amount of pushing, pulling, or willing had brought Henry closer a step closer tonight. He felt hollow and sick, realized how deeply dug in he'd been.

"_Psychiatrist shrink thyself"_ He tried to laugh, choked a little and swallowed, wiping his face with the towel he still held. It still smelled like coffee, too. Stupid dream.

"Okay," he said aloud, "Goodbye denial, hello..."

Will was on the love-seat, next to Henry. "So what's up?"

"I've been meaning to tell you, Will. It's not going to workout between us. I care about you man, but I'm just not wired that way. It's a wolf thing I guess..."

Will sighed, "You can't change who you are."

"I know, man." Henry smiled with visible relief, "But hey, if I could change, I would... you know... for you."

Will nodded solemnly, "I know." He felt a sudden fluttering of nerves, the pit of his stomach hitched and plummeted. It was his dream. He knew what he could do.

"If I change for anyone, I change for you," Will said hesitantly, his voice was suddenly softer, higher, "I love you, Henry."

Henry had been looking away, glanced sideways and visibly startled, "W-will?" he said, his voice full of wonder. Will smiled confidently, and leaned forward. Henry met her halfway and they kissed softly, slowly, and for the very first time.

OoOoO

Will woke up. "Weird, weird dream," he muttered aloud, and tensed. His voice was wrong, strange, but strange in a way he recognized.

It was stilll his voice... her voice. He grabbed his glasses from the night stand and slipped them on, reached for the bedside lamp, and froze.

Across the room, reflected in the mirror sat a young woman. Her boy-cut blond curls tussled, her face a narrow oval, piercing blue eyes staring out in shock from behind gold tone wire frames. Her body was trim, athletic, but soft and curving. She wore a Quantico t-shirt that hung loose at the shoulders, pulled across her breasts, long, slim legs stuck out from under the tangled sheets, and when Will reached for the phone on the bedside table, the stranger in the mirror did so too.

Will's hands shook as she dialed without looking away from the mirror.

"Hello, Magnus... I need your help. Can you meet me in my room?" she paused to listen. Her voice cracked with panic as she responded to the question from the other end of the line. "W-w-will. It's Will. Hurry please!"


End file.
